Married to My Enemy

“What time is it?” She whined as she put her hand above her eyes to block out the sunlight coming from my floor-to-ceiling windows in the kitchen.

“After 10.”

She groaned. “I need to text my sister. Have you seen my phone? Wait. Have you seen my skirt? I think my phone was in there.”

I pointed to the couch. “I think that's where I tore it off of you.”

She dragged her feet along the white carpet and flopped down on the couch pulling her phone out of the pocket of her skirt. I turned off the griddle and put two pancakes on a plate for her, grabbing the Bloody Mary off the island and walking into the living room setting it down in front of her.

“You cook?”

“Don't sound so surprised. A man's got to eat.”

“Yeah I get that, but men like you have cooks. Chefs or whatever. They don't usually make their own pancakes and Bloody Marys. By the way, this is really good.” She said as she took a sip.

“I have a proposition for you.”

She pulled her feet up on the leather sofa underneath her so she was sitting Indian style. A single strand of black curly hair fell into her face and it took every fiber of my being to not push it out of her eyes. God, why was I so attracted to her?

I couldn't figure it out. I also couldn't figure out why I was doing what I was about to do. But I didn't have any other choices. I was shit out of luck.

“I'm listening.”

“So last night…”

She picked up the plate and took a bite out of her pancake. “Was great.”

“I was going to say fucking awesome, but great is okay.”

“Okay, so what about it? I thought we were very no strings attached.”

“But what if there were?”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Strings?”

“Yeah. What if we could keep doing this? Not only would we keep having amazing hot sex, but there was more to it. Something in it for you.”

She set the plate on the coffee table looking confused. “Are you trying to ask me out on a date? Because you kind of suck at it.”

“No,” I put my hands up in surrender. I couldn't remember the last time asked somebody out on a date. I didn't date. I didn't date and I didn't fall in love, I just fucked women senseless. And up until now, it had worked for me.

“No, I don't want to date you. I want to marry you.”

She choked on the Bloody Mary some of it going up and out of her mouth. I grabbed a napkin off the table and handed it to her. “I'm sorry, what did you just say? Because I swear to God I only had four beers last night.”

“Yes, you did. Here's the deal, I'm wealthy.”

“Consider me shocked.” She said sarcastically. God, I loved it when she was feisty.

“But I'm going to lose all of that money unless I get married. See I had a little run-in with the law recently and my uncle who is the estate holder for my parents wants to pull out my business from underneath me.”

“Business? And your parents?”

“Yes my parents owned a pharmaceutical business, it's very popular, and we do very well. But when they died I went into the military instead, I became a medic and then a doctor because I thought I could apply my knowledge the business. Well, that was the plan. But instead, I came back from war and mostly got drunk and slept with women. And then I stole a boat recently and pissed my uncle off. I think that pretty much sums it up.”

I surveyed her shocked face, her mouth gaping open just a little bit. She was still in just my shirt and her underwear. And with her mouth open just a little bit like that all that I could imagine was sticking my cock into it. It twitched underneath my gym shorts. Why did she make me so hard all the time? Since the minute I got her back up into my apartment all that I wanted to do was get into her pussy. And since I had now had it, I wanted more. Why didn't I think of this as an opportunity as soon as I met her? Why had I been so dumb?

Oh yeah, because now she was looking at me like I was a lunatic and I could see her making an escape plan in her brain. That's super smart sexy brain.